they pulled my hair at charm school.
they
stole my guestbook during
rolecall.
past weekend stranded in bed with flu + december the 11th. 0'3 = temp was 102
walk warm sidewalks home in my pointy shoes. the chain link fence around the high school's baseball field is for running fingertips across. everything is melting; snowbanks are transmogrifying into fine shiny beads that gather at my temples and curl my hair into the type of glossy waves not seen in this town since 1940-something. i don't have any textbooks tucked under my arm, but feel i should. i want a leather strap holding thick books re: science & law & art history. all the books that hold futures that don't belong to me. we all know i would be the one bringing home novels & histories of tiny countries led by royals. 65T looms large in our yard; windows lit up like a big fat yellow ship waiting in the harbor. have had to opt out of a handful of promising engagements this evening. feel odd about having to press pause on the writing group night & the rock show, but am clutching silver lining that came via email from beau's mum re: future career plans, thus, need to finish winsome essay. nerves like steel wires and my pulse is the winning racehorse tonight.
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notes, file of pom-pom
ghosts!
